Of All People
by RedRoses130
Summary: Those who remained were calling it the Wipe Out: the devastating phenomenon that had caused approximately half the world's population to disappear in a flurry of ash. When Marnie Peters finds out her little brother is one of the many victims, there is very little she wouldn't do to bring him back.


**Foreword: So I've decided to edit the chapter. It was inevitable, but even I'm surprised it happened this quickly. Part of it is that I uploaded the first version around 4AM, and we all know how those stories turn out.**

 **That being said, shout out to Lord Moldyvoldy! First review, first place in my heart. I'm glad you liked the story. It's changed a bit, but it's not that I disliked the scenes before per se, so you'll probably see some scenes crop up in some shape or other later in the story. **

**I'm still not entirely happy with it, especially those last two sections, but I like it much better than before, and it's late, and I don't want to keep the other one online.**

 **I'm still looking for a beta-reader, so hopefully I'll get to know some of you really well.**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

 _ **December 2015: Three Years Before the Wipe Out**_

Marnie Peters had never felt so uncomfortable in her life.

She was wearing her mother's old pantsuit, fraying at the seams from decades of wear-and-tear, and the pants were a size too small around the ass. Like so many clothes from the 90's, the jacket was comically oversized, made from a horrible plaid fabric, and was - to her absolute horror - a colour that can only be described as _mustard._ Marnie hated mustard. It was her least favourite condiment.

In her lap, her hands twitched. She had a habit of biting her nails when she got nervous, but in an effort to seem presentable she had filed them smooth and painted them a deep red. They were a little too short to look decent, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

In her nightmares she had expected a small, sterile room and a Maria Benson-esque figure coldly sizing her up. Instead, Marnie was sitting at a desk in a small, cramped cubicle, in a room full of even more cubicles occupied by similar women and men as she. The desk was extremely messy; crumbs from today's lunch hour were scattered across the surface, a stack of manila files tossed haphazardly in a corner, official papers tacked to a corkscrew board on the northernmost wall. There was an airconditioning unit near the entrance of the large room, but Marnie figured it was just for show. In the early summer heat the room was absolutely stifling, and a vague smell of sweat permeated every corner. Next to her, the social worker was so flustered and overworked that he kept on stuttering his questions, occasionally gesturing to an open folder in front of him. Clipped to it was a picture of her little brother, Tyler, grinning happily up at the camera.

 _Can't they open a window?_ Thought Marnie desperately. She scanned the room quickly, and saw that all the windows were already open. There just wasn't any wind coming through. Perspiration, brought on by the heat and by nerves, was dripping down her back. She prayed to whatever god was listening that the cheap concealer she had plastered underneath her eyes to hide the circles wasn't streaking.

She could barely focus on the questions with this heat, and there were _so many damn questions_. How's college going? Where is your mother? Do you have a job? You look a little tired - how are you feeling? Do you really think you can raise a thirteen year old on your own? What are your plans for the future?

It took some mighty self control not to snap at the social worker. She'd quit college. Her mother was still halfway across the country, playing family with the man she had abandoned her own for. She was juggling three jobs. One of them ended at two in the morning, and even then, all the shifts in the world didn't seem enough to keep paying for rent, for food, for electricity, for water - for anything needed to convince social services she could take care of her little brother. Right now she had no plans other than conning these people into believing that yes, she was capable of raising her little brother on her own.

She dabbed at her sweaty face with one of her father's old handkerchiefs, taking a deep breath before giving a series of answers she had rehearsed diligently in the mirror. She was taking a break from college, a decision fully supported and understood by her professors. She had no idea where her mother was, but she hadn't been in the picture for years and never even sent a birthday card. Yes, she had several jobs, and one even had basic benefits. She was a little bit tired, but after her father's funeral she would have some time to rest, thank you. Raising Tyler is what her father would have wanted her to do; family should stick together, and it's only a couple of years before he goes to college. She might take some night classes till then, or take some online courses. Who knows? She's only twenty-two, after all.

The social worker smiled distractedly at her. Marnie had the feeling he hadn't been listening at all, but that might work in her favour. With a soaring confidence entering her chest she watched as the social worker nodded and moved to stamp 'approved' on the file. She smiled for the first time since stepping into the building; she loved Tyler more than anything, and no one was going to take him away from her. She would do anything to make sure of it. This just proved she had it in her to win.

* * *

 _ **Chapter One: The Wipe Out**_

* * *

Marnie's alarm went off at 5.45AM, just as it always did. Outside, the streets of Queens were starting to wake up, and the ever present sounds of honking cars, which usually quieted down in the early morning hours, was starting to rise in volume. Ignoring the urge to hit the snooze button she rolled halfway out of bed, letting her legs rest on the cool floor while she allowed her head to remain one more heavenly moment on the pillow. _That's it_ , she thought. _One step at a time. You'll get there_.

When she had gathered herself up to standing position, she padded out of her bedroom and down the hallway to the bathroom, where she took ten minutes for a deliciously hot shower. Then, wrapped in a towel, she quickly went back to her bedroom to put on her mustard yellow uniform, which featured a smiling cupcake right over her left breast. It was a Tuesday, so she had the morning shift at the bakery. That was fine; she liked working at the bakery, but it also meant that she would have to leave without seeing Tyler off to school. That was fine, too; he'd been acting distant lately, and would probably prefer starting the day without seeing her. If the thought of the tension between her and Tyler left a bitter taste in her mouth, she ignored it. She could deal with it when she came home later that night.

After she had finished combing through the knots in her hair, brushed her teeth and flossed, she went to the kitchen and prepared Tyler a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She knew he hated peanut butter and jelly, especially when the jelly was on as thickly as she was smearing it, but this was the second day in a row she was making it for him. It was her way of getting payback for that door he slammed in her face on Sunday, when she had told him she couldn't make it to his baseball game on Friday because she needed to pick up an extra shift. She put the sandwich, along with an apple and a juice box, in his favourite Captain America lunch box. Tyler was obsessed with Captain America, and she'd taken him to the Smithsonian exhibit at least four times. If she were to barge into his room right now, she'd be confronted with four walls decked out in star spangled memorabilia. She went to put the lid on the box, but the text on it made her hesitate. A cartoon Cap was punching cartoon Hitler, with a speech box saying: _I don't like bullies, no matter where they're from_. The voice in the back of her mind, which always talked like how she imagined Captain America would sound, was berating her on her pettiness. She knew from her own personal experience that fourteen was a difficult age, and with all the time she had been spending at work they'd been hanging out less and less. When was the last time she and Tyler sat down to have a talk, like they used to? What if he was being bullied at school, or what if she felt like _she_ was bullying _him_?

Wrinkling her nose, Marnie took a moment to rustle through the cabinets until she found the packet of Oreos she had been saving for a rainy day. They packaging was a bit crumpled, and she could feel that some of the cookies were broken, but she put it in there anyway. It's about sending a message, she reasoned, and she hoped Tyler understood what she was trying to say: _I'm sorry it's gotten like this, I'll try harder_.

She glanced at the clock, and did a double take. If she didn't hurry up, she might miss her bus, and a bad start to the day like that could ruin the rest of it.

* * *

The bus Marnie always took brought her straight in front of the bakery, fifteen minutes before her shift officially started, which she liked, because then she had a moment of peace before the bustle and hustle of the day began. Today, she was forced to wait for the bus for nearly twenty minutes before she realised there were no busses at all. She racked her mind, but could think of no reason why none of the busses were driving their scheduled routes. This was most strange, and would normally have caused her to pause, but Marnie knew that if she ran real quick she could still make it just on time for her shift. Unfortunately it was an unusually hot spring, and, paired with the thick polyester fabric of her uniform and the absence of a breeze to offer some relief, Marnie just knew she was going to arrive at the bakery with very noticeable sweat patches underneath her arms.

Marnie worked at a small but busy bakery called _Magda's Bake Shoppe_ , relatively well known around Queens for their delicious cheesecake and their sourdough loaves. Magda herself was a little old Polish lady, well loved for her normally sweet disposition but feared for the occasional bout of intense anger, who had come to America as a child in the arms of her parents, escaping Europe in the years leading up to World War II. Her father had opened the bakery and named it after his daughter; needles to say, their grasp of the English language left a lot to be desired. And yet, the bakery had become popular, and for decades had been a firm fixture in the city landscape, strange name and all.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Magda," heaved Marnie as she ran through the door of the bakery, ten minutes after her shift was supposed to start. "The busses are being a nightmare." She had been right about the sweat patches, and she wished she had taken the time that morning to throw on a cardigan or jacket, so she could at least pretend she wasn't all greasy from the heat. Smiling apologetically to Magda, who standing impatiently in front of the door leading to the kitchen, she went to the bathroom to freshen up.

Glancing at her reflection in the little mirror above the sink, Marnie cringed at how horrible she looked. Her skin was red and shiny with exertion, and strands of her thick brown hair were sticking to her forehead. _Is a twenty-three year old supposed to have trouble running eighteen blocks?_ In her defence, it had been more of a sprint. On top of that, her usual signs of exhaustion weren't helping: the circles underneath her eyes, the tightness around her mouth, the tense setting of her shoulders... _If only dad could see me now_ , she thought miserably.

Marnie sighed deeply, and splashed some cold water on her face. Still not satisfied, she braided her hair back from her face in a messy attempt to look more put together, and resigned herself to the fact that this was as good as it was going to get.

She knew she looked truly terrible when Magda didn't bring up her unpunctuality, even though this was the third time in the past month that she had been late. Magda was quick to forgive many things, but consistent tardiness was not usually one of them. "Gabriel will be late today," is all she said. "Something about a disturbance in New York, and that none of the busses are going."

"That's insane," complained Marnie, fanning herself with her open palm. Though extremely relieved that Magda didn't seem to be angry, the heat in the bakery, especially so near the ovens, was stifling. She made a mental not to open a window, for her own sanity and that of the customer's. "Something big must have happened, to stop all the busses."

Magda shrugged again. It was already nearing 6.30AM, and whether there were busses or not, the first customers would be coming through the doors soon. "I've got the loaves resting, and the ovens fired up. You good to get the cheesecakes out of the fridge?" Marnie nodded. On good days, Magda would let her take the first piece of the day. But Magda seemed on edge, and Marnie didn't want to push her luck.

Like Magda predicted, there was a steady stream of customers milling into the small space of the bakery, and without Gabriel behind the till, Marnie had to do double the work. She'd already been snapped at by three customers, and she dreaded having to stand there in this infernal heat until six. It didn't help that every time she turned to a new customer she heard snippets of whispered conversation, too soft for her to make out anything other than vague references to New York, or to Scotland. She even heard someone mention Wakanda, but she didn't care enough to get in a better position to eavesdrop. When New Yorkers mentioned Wakanda these days, it was often related to the stock market, and Marnie just didn't have a head for those things.

Today was going to be a horrible day, she decided. The only good parts of it, other than going home, were going to be those moments she would be able to sneak off to stand in front of an open fridge.

* * *

Gabriel arrived right before the lunch rush, and Marnie was glad that by the time he had stumbled through the door she didn't look quite as terrible as before. Gabriel was the type of guy who, despite being mildly awkward in all the things he did, always knew how to charm his way out of sticky situations. As a result, Magda had never berated Gabriel like she had berated Marnie, but Marnie could never bring herself to be bitter about it.

Marnie suspected it had something to do with the little crush she had been harbouring since the first time she'd set eyes on him. He was a year older than her, and worked at the bakery to pay tuition for a Master's degree in Cinema Studies from NYU. Marnie thought he was insanely smart; during their shifts he entertained her by discussing the deep underlying theme of whatever movie she could name, and when she had a comment to make, he considered her words with genuine thoughtfulness. He was smart in a way that didn't make her feel stupid, and she'd been feeling so stupid lately that their conversations were a welcome boost to her self esteem.

Magda would often cluck her tongue when she caught Marnie ogling at Gabriel, but would make up strange little tasks that kept her two young workers close together. It was in this way that Magda showed her weak spot for Marnie. That, and the free slices of cheesecake.

Gabriel wasn't necessarily the most handsome guy, and Marnie would be the first to admit it. He was shorter than her by an inch, which he could do nothing about, but he also always looked slightly ruffled, as though he rolled out of bed and decided it wasn't worth the effort to comb his curly black hair. But it was the little things that had put Marnie under his spell: the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose from all the time he spent out in the sun, noticeable only to those who spent a great deal studying his face. How when he smiled, which was often, he smiled so big that Marnie could have counted all his teeth if she wanted to, but she was always happier dreaming about the way his cheeks rounded to reveal deep set dimples, and how his green eyes glittered in the sunlight. Besides, Marnie could appreciate the 'roll out of bed' vibe - she was rocking it more and more herself lately.

"Hiya, stranger," Marnie greeted enthusiastically. Maybe a bit too enthusiastically, she thought, and she felt her eye twitch.

"Hey Marnie," said Gabriel, "How's everything going?" Marnie shrugged, attempting to look nonchalant.

"Nothin' much. I watched _Clueless_ yesterday." Gabriel's eyes lit up, and Marnie relaxed a bit. If there's anything that interested Gabriel, it would be movies. She smiled sweetly. "I really liked it."

This was all Marnie needed to say to get Gabriel going, and she felt her mood improve now that had the chance to steal glances at him. Magda's mood, too, had improved considerably from that point on. By the time they had finished dealing with the last customers, the topic had moved on from 90's romcoms to Magda's youth, and how her father had forever changed the American patisserie scene with his Polish recipes.

"The only reason he isn't appreciated the way he should be is because they hated the Polish," spat Magda passionately, a hint of an accent shining through. In her gloved hands she held a cheesecake fresh from the oven, the centre still a bit jiggly. Marnie felt her mouth water, and she looked at the display case. There was still half a cheesecake left over from the ten they had made yesterday, and now that everyone was in a better mood she was definitely going to ask for a piece. She only had to do it before Magda got too riled up about the supposed injustices her _tata'_ s _chalka_ faced.

"Magda," started Marnie innocently, shooting a mischievous grin towards Gabriel. When he returned it, she felt her cheeks warm ever so slightly, and in her mind she cussed the butterflies rioting in her belly. Magda hummed in acknowledgement and turned her head fondly towards her. "You going to throw that cheesecake away? Would be a mighty shame to put it to waste..."

Magda rolled her eyes, but smiled and gestured towards the cheesecake. "Have at it, but don't eat it all. Take a slice home to Tyler. Last time I saw the kid he looked like he hadn't eaten for a month."

Marnie felt her stomach drop at the mention of Tyler. He _had_ been looking a little skinny as of late, and she had been giving him a lot of peanut butter and jellies in his lunchbox...

She pushed the worry down and cut three slices from the cake, grinning as she took the largest one for herself. She took some chocolate ganache and piped it over the slices, finishing them off with a sprig of mint just the way Magda had taught her to when she first started working there. Gabriel took his slice gratefully, giving Marnie a sympathetic smile, and devoured it in five large bites. She had never really talked to him about her home life, but he had walked in on Tyler throwing a tantrum when he had stopped by the bakery once, and he knew there was tension at home. Marnie ignored his pity and moved to give a piece to Magda, who declined.

"Are you okay?" asked a concerned Marnie. Magda, who otherwise never turned down a piece of cake, smiled, but it was uneasy.

"I've just got a stomach ache, is all," she said. "My body isn't like it used to be." Marnie frowned. She had been with Magda all day so far, and she hadn't noticed anything amiss before. Magda saw her look and tried to reassure her.

"It is alright. It happens from time to time. I think I might be lactose intolerant." Magda barked out a laugh at what she believed to be a completely absurd notion. Marnie wanted to join in when she noticed something off. Magda's hands were shaking in the most peculiar way. When Magda noticed neither Marnie nor Gabriel were joining her in her laughter, she looked down. She had no time to react before she started to disintegrate right before Marnie's eyes.

Marnie and Gabriel stared in horror at the pile of ash at their feet. "What the fuck just happened?" Asked Marnie after a beat, voice breaking. Gabriel didn't reply, too shell shocked to do anything but stand there with an open mouth.

"We've got to go get help," said Marnie. She turned around, and, tripping over the floor, ran out of the bakery. She turned to make sure Gabriel was following her, and was relieved to see him struggling to keep up with her. Once they had reached the sidewalk, they started shouting for help.

Outside, however, no one was paying the screaming duo much attention. Instead they came face to face with pandemonium. Everywhere she turned, Marnie saw people dissolve the same way Magda had just moments before. She reached out to grab Gabriel's arm, but found only air. In a fit of hysteria, Marnie turned around. Had Gabriel dissolved, too? It was hard to tell… Men, women, old, young… there seemed to be no discrimination as to whom was being targeted, and she felt a sense of dread rise in her.

Through all the confusion, the only thing she knew for sure was that she desperately needed to go home.

* * *

In the middle of the living room, in their crappy little apartment on 15th Street Queens, was a pile of ash. The television was on, turned to the Cartoon Network channel. _Maybe Tyler left the window open,_ she thought desperately, but all the windows were closed. Hardly daring to breathe, Marnie backed out of the living room and checked the rest of the apartment.

Was Tyler hiding in the kitchen? No, but the lights were on, and there was a glass of milk on the counter.

Perhaps he was taking a nap in his room, because he liked taking naps after school more than anything else. No, he wasn't there either, but his bed wasn't made from this morning. _I'll have to talk to him about cleaning his room when I find him,_ thought Marnie, the panic a consistent buzz in her mind, making it hard to think.

Was he in her room, looking through their father's old things, even though had told him to stop doing that? No, but her bed wasn't made, either, so maybe she wouldn't reprimand Tyler for not making his. She remembered the pack of Oreos, an unspoken promise of trying harder. She remembered, in the distant, jumbled crevices of her mind, what being fourteen was like. It wasn't easy, and some days making the bed was just too hard. Hell, she was twenty-three now, and even then it sometimes got too hard. She closed the bedroom door behind her, and quietly back to the living room.

She sat down on the couch, right next to the ash. _Tyler will be home soon,_ she told herself. He hated worrying her. Never daring to breathe in deeply lest she inhale some of the ash, she stared at the television, watching old reruns of _Popeye_ episodes until her eyes became too heavy to keep open.

* * *

Marnie woke up at 5.45AM the next morning, just as she always did. She shuffled to the kitchen and, seeing the glass of milk on the counter, she took a sip. It had gone rancid, and she gagged at the sour taste it left in her mouth.

She made her way to the bathroom and took a shower, brushed her teeth, and combed the tangles out of her hair. It was Wednesday, and on Wednesdays she worked as a receptionist at the local gym. That was fine; she didn't like it as much as working at the bakery, but she got benefits and she could wear a pair of leggings and a black shirt to work. She could even bring Tyler to school, because work only started at 8.00AM today…

Marnie padded to the living room on bare, clean feet.

She had almost convinced herself that it had all been a terrible, terrible nightmare, that if she were to bang on the door of Tyler's room, that he'd come storming out, a sleepy, angry, hormonal kid. But no… Marnie was standing in the living room, staring at the same ashes as last night, and she knew she had come home too late.

Sirens blared in the street, and she began to cry.

* * *

Marnie didn't stay in the apartment very long. She went to her room and she packed a bag with some clothes, and picked her bakery uniform up from the place she had deposited it on the floor last night. She grabbed her toothbrush, and her phone. Why hadn't she tried calling Tyler the night before? _Too late now_ , she thought bitterly, and threw the items into her bag.

Grabbing her jacket from the hanger and her keys from their perch, Marnie locked the front door behind her and walked the five steps needed to get to her neighbour's door. Once she was well away from the entrance to her apartment she took her first real breath since coming home the evening before, and it felt almost like a rush to the head. In her dizziness, her neighbour's 'welcome home' mat was almost mocking in its cheeriness. Marnie raised her fist to knock, and her knuckles barely grazed the door before it swung open, revealing an abnormally stressed, pale-faced May Parker.

"Marnie?" May sounded surprised, and Marnie gathered she was waiting for someone else. "Are you alright?"

Marnie cleared her throat in an effort to sound strong, but her voice shook with emotion no matter what. "Not really, no." May paused, waiting for the rest, but Marnie couldn't bring herself to say anything else.

"Where is Tyler?" asked May carefully, and the sincere concern in her voice brought Marnie over the edge. It took less than a heartbeat for May to understand. "Oh, Marn… come in, you can stay with us as long as you need to, alright?" She led the younger girl to her living room, so similar and yet so different to Marnie's, and settled her onto the couch. Quickly, May swiped the disorderly array of books on the coffee table onto the floor, and perched on it so she could take Marnie's face in her hands. "You need to tell me what's going on, _capisce_?" she said. Marnie nodded.

"I was at work," she said, voice thick and scratchy. "And Magda… Magda wasn't feeling too well, and then she just started fucking disappearing, May. God, it was terrifying…. we ran away, but the people on the streets, they were disappearing too, and - "

" - Who is 'we', Marn?" asked May urgently.

"Me and Gabriel," said Marnie, and May visibly deflated. "But… but I think he's gone, too. I couldn't find him anymore." Marnie began crying again, picturing Gabriel and his dimples crumbling into nothing. May gently took her chin and raised it so they were looking each other in the eyes.

"And then?" she prompted. Marnie tried to breathe, but her heaving wasn't letting in any air.

"And then I went home, because I needed to make sure Tyler was okay, and I don't know why I didn't just _call_ , I should have just _called_ , for fuck's sake!"

Marnie was wailing hysterically at this point, and May moved so she could wrap her arms around her, rocking Marnie until she fell into a fitful asleep.

* * *

When Marnie woke some hours later, May was sitting next to her, body leaning forward towards the television, as though she would miss anything happening on the screen if she didn't. Some time during Marnie's nap, May had wrapped a quilt around her body. In front of her were three steaming mugs of tea, and a plate of double chocolate cookies.

"They're calling it 'The Wipe Out'," said May when she noticed Marnie stirring. Her voice sounded distracted, and her eyes never once left the screen.

Marnie sat up, rubbed her eyes to get rid of the remaining sleepiness, and mirrored May's stance. May was watching the news, and a series of names were scrolling song the screen, listing what important people were confirmed dead. There were so many names that Marnie couldn't focus on a single one. At the bottom of the screen, the following flashed in big red letters: _TONY STARK RETURNED, GIVES NO WORD ON THE SITUATION._

She looked at May. Didn't she know Tony Stark? Marnie had to wrack her brain for a good minute before she recalled their connection. Peter was an intern for Stark's company. She remembered how over the moon May was when she told her, and how excited Peter was to show her the selfies he had taken with Stark.

"Is that for me?" asked Marnie, gesturing to the mugs. Her voice dull, and she was relieved that May was too preoccupied with the news to fuss over her. She reached out to grab one of the mugs, and inhaled deeply. It was chamomile. Wasn't chamomile supposed to calm you? In that case, Marnie didn't need it. She was already calm. Too calm, maybe, for someone whose little brother was nothing more than a pile of ash. She felt bile rise in the back of her throat. Maybe she needed to calm down after all. She took a sip. It scorched her tongue. She took a cookie, and took a large bite. May's double chocolate cookies were the best, and she made them often because they were Peter's favourite.

"Where is Peter?" asked Marnie. She felt stupid for not asking before. "Is he home?"

May tore her eyes from the screen and smiled tensely at Marnie. "Not yet, but he'll be here soon."

Marnie had trouble swallowing her cookie, and a horrible guilt settled over her. Here she was, forcing May to take care of her, when Peter was MIA. Peter was only a couple years older than Tyler. Seventeen perhaps? Certainly not any older than that, but she wasn't entirely sure. She should know. She used to babysit him. Then he got older, and he would sometimes babysit Tyler when her shifts ran too late. He was a nice kid. Smart kid. Tyler really liked him.

"Have you heard anything from him? Or…"

"He's fine, Marnie," snapped May, and Marnie flinched. May's eyes teared up, and she ran a hand over her face. "I'm sorry. You've been through a lot. You don't need to worry about Peter. I shouldn't be telling you this. I'm only telling you this so you don't worry about him… He's Spiderman."

Marnie thought her grief over Tyler was making her hear things. "He's… Spiderman?"

"Yeah. That's what he's been doing with Tony. Saving the world. I told him to quit, but you know Peter. So stubborn. But Tony is back now. It says so right there on the news. Peter's probably with him."

May turned back to watching the news with a hawk's eye. Marnie didn't say anything out loud, but her head was drumming with the growing list of names. Magda, Gabriel, Tyler… and now Peter, too.

Unwilling to compromise May's hope, Marnie took another gulp of tea, trying her best to hide the tears streaming down her cheeks.

* * *

Here is what Marnie learned about what the media was referring to as 'The Wipe Out' that day, although admittedly it wasn't much. An estimated four billion people had been affected, but those were the conservative figures. That meant approximately half the world's population had disappeared in a flurry of ash in a matter of seconds. No one dared say for certain what had happened. _Keep your windows shut and your doors locked until we know more about what happened_ , was the message broadcast on every news channel as the events were unfolding. Whether it was British news or Chinese, American or French, conservative or liberal… they were like a flock of birds, a mass of different entities screaming out the exact same thing.

Windows shut and doors locked. It wasn't so much advice as much as it was an order, but either way the people of New York ignored it. In the first twenty-four hours after the Wipe Out, people swarmed the streets to check cars and houses and offices for injured loved ones. It was a city that had survived enormous loss before, and the people's response seemed almost practiced. But other than a handful of people who had been injured in the chaos of traffic, there were no visible wounds to address. What good could a paramedic do when faced with a pile of ash?

At first, people thought it had been a disease. In spite of the Chituari Invasion in 2012, or the footage of Thanos' ship cutting through great cities posted all over the internet, it seemed almost too fantastical to believe that all this devastation had been caused by an army of aliens led by some big purple brute who believed half the universe needed to be wiped out in order to reach a warped sort of balance. As a result, people really did start locking their doors and windows. Those who had watched a loved one dissolve away in front of them stayed at their neighbour's, or at a shelter. For days no one would dare touch anything they thought had been touched by those who died, as though whatever had caused half the population to waste away would come make them disappear, too.

It took Tony Stark coming back from space, a blue cyborg named Nebula in tow, to convince people Thanos was real, and that what had happened could best be described as a culling. The world began to grieve, and the deaths of so many were to make recovery a slow and painful process.

* * *

That evening, there was a knocking on May's door. Because May had finally taken a break from watching the news in order to take a shower, Marnie took it upon herself to meet whoever was on the other side. She shuffled to the door slowly, entire body stiff from her time spent crying on the couch. With each second it took her to walk, the knocking got louder, and Marnie felt the need to tear into whoever felt the need to be so damn loud when the whole world was falling apart.

That is how she came face to face with Tony Stark the first time. He didn't need to introduce himself. She recognised him, if not from the television or from the news, then from Peter's selfies. He was wearing a torn tracksuit, and the skin peaking through the fabric was bruised. His face was covered in dried blood, his hands in soot, and he reeked of sweat and dirt.

"Hullo," said Marnie. She forced herself to ask him the question, but already had a sinking feeling about what his answer was going to be. "Is Peter with you?"

Stark seemed to shrink under her gaze. "No," he said, and his voice was low and rough. Marnie could barely hear him, and she had to lean in to him to catch what he said next. "He... He, uh, didn't make it."

 _Oh._ Marnie could faintly hear May humming in through the wall, and she heard the shower turn off.

"Then I think you should go," she said thickly. "I don't think she's going to take this well, and you're probably not the person she wants to be around now."

Stark didn't say anything, but he also made no move to go.

"Do you at least have his ashes with you?" she asked. Again he didn't say anything. Marnie felt a spark of anger inflamed by her grief. "You need to go. Now, before she comes back. I don't want her seeing you."

"Marnie? Is someone at the door?" It was May, wearing her flannels and towelling off her long hair. When she saw Stark in the doorway, she dropped her towel and brought her hands to play with the ends of her shirt. "Tony!" she said brightly, and Marnie hated the hope in her voice. "Are you alright? You look terrible. Is Peter here, too?"

There was a pregnant pause, and May stopped fussing with her clothes. Even though she was standing several feet away, Marnie could clearly see May's begin to shake. Then the tears started falling.

"He just disappeared," said Stark. "I'm so sorry, May..." May started heaving, and Tony stepped towards her, as though he were going to comfort her. Marnie beat him to it, and did her best to support May's collapsing frame.

"How did this happen?" whimpered May. Marnie could hear that she was trying to keep her tone under control, but she wasn't doing a good job at it. With each word, May's voice grew in loudness and in hysteria. "He's seventeen. He's a kid. How could you bring my kid to fight some genocidal alien, you asshole?"

"Please," pleaded Stark. Marnie had never heard a man so desperate, but she had also never felt this spiteful, and as a result was feeling very little for Tony Stark in that moment. "Just listen to me, I'm going to fix this, I swear!"

May drew herself up to her full height, and Marnie felt admiration bubble up amongst the sadness. If only she could have been so formidable when faced with the death of a loved one.

"How?" she ground out. Her voice was strong, and the only hint of her sobs just a moment before was a light hoarseness.

"I've got a plan, May," said Stark. "It's not over yet. I'll fix this." May looked deeply into his eyes, and whatever she saw must have convinced her, because she deflated.

"Promise me," she said, a vulnerability seeping into her tone. "Promise you'll bring Peter back to me."

"I promise," he said, and that was that.

* * *

Stark didn't stick around and Marnie was grateful for it. The events of the past two days had left her feeling drained, and all she wanted to do was close her eyes, burrow herself beneath some blankets, and forget about all of it. With May's blessing she took a long, hot shower, and took comfort in the steady assault of the water on her back.

When she came out of the bathroom, dressed in one of Peter's oversized sweaters and some loose fitting sweatpants she had taken from her own closet before, Marnie made her way to the couch, fluffing the pillows so they could make a comfortable place for her to rest her head during the night.

"What are you doing?" asked May when she saw Marnie's antics. Her hands were on her hip, and there was no outward sign that she had confronted the world's richest man just two hours before.

"I'm going to sleep."

"Not on the couch you're not," said May. Marnie cocked her head. The layout of May's apartment was the same as her own, so she knew May only had two bedrooms. May sighed. "You can sleep in Peter's room."

Marnie frowned, the thought of sleeping in Peter's room making her uncomfortable. The mere idea of someone disturbing Tyler's room already made her nauseous, and the way May was so quick to offer her Peter's was making it hard for her to think clearly.

"It's fine Marnie," reassured May, her voice was tired but firm. It left no room for discussion.

Marnie hadn't believed Tony Stark or his promises to fix everything, but she could see May believed with all her heart. How could she insist that May was wrong to place all her faith in Stark, when she knew first hand how agonising it was to lose someone you were meant to protect?

Marnie took another couple of deep breaths before she nodded and walked to Peter's room. It was messy and cluttered just like one would expect a teenage boy's room to be, but Marnie avoided the finer details. She didn't want to see the posters hanging on the wall, or the homework assignments sitting unfinished on the desk.

Marnie counted herself lucky that when she collapsed onto the bed, all she could smell was the overwhelming scent of detergent. Senses dulled by the lavender and honeysuckle cotton sheets, Marnie fell into another fitful sleep.

* * *

 **From what I've understood, Chalka is a sweet white bread from the Jewish cuisine (That's literally what Wikipedia tells me; if I misunderstood please let me know so I can fix it!). Magda is, in my mind, from a Polish Jewish family that managed to escape Europe just in time. So when Marnie is kind of ignoring her stories as though they're a good ol'e Magda thing, that's also kind of showing how flawed (or, as I like to call it, human) Marnie is.**

 **I told myself I wouldn't post anything on this site anymore unless I was really proud of it. As a result, I haven't posted anything in around five years, which sucks because I haven't stopped thinking about fanfiction in those years or anything. Now that I'm older, I do feel like my writing has gotten better. Maybe not by much, but I literally cringe each time I think about the stories I used to write.**

 **The formatting on this site is also giving me trouble, so apologies if it comes out wonky. I'll do my best to fix everything.**

 **I also told myself that, when I did post something, I would have already written the entire story. Whoops. Not true in this case. I do have the ending already in my mind, though. So there's that.**

 **Sorry if the chapter is a bummer, but it's necessary. Rain before the sunshine, and all that.**

 **Also, please note that I'm writing two fanfiction stories besides this one, which I intending on completing before posting. This one's just for fun.**

 **Constructive criticism is always appreciated!**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**


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